


nothing in this world is easy

by tracyheart



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Russian Doll AU, Slow Burn, Soulmate AU, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracyheart/pseuds/tracyheart
Summary: carol and therese relive the same day over and over again.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Comments: 53
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this series is based on the show russian doll. if you haven't seen it, it's an amazing show and i highly recommend it! and if you have, i reckon you'll have a pretty good idea of what's gonna go down. it's gonna be very therese centric at the start but i promise you they'll end up together soon! 
> 
> this is also the first time i've ever attempted to write anything this big, and i can't promise i'll be consistent but i'll definitely try to be! if you've decided to pick this up, thank you so so much <3

Therese looks up at herself in the mirror, cold water running beneath her fingertips, bracing herself for a night she never wanted to be part of. 

The city outside the window is quiet, far from the party taking place on the other side of the bathroom door. She watches the flickering lights against the brick walls of the apartment buildings, the shadows of two businessmen stretched out on the pavement, a yellow checker cab rolling lazily around the corner, smoke curling softly outside the driver's window. For a moment her eyes linger on them and she wonders, maybe Dannie and Phil would forgive her if she crawled out of it. Maybe no one would notice her absence. 

Maybe then she could return to the solitude of her apartment and forget the confrontation that was bound to happen tonight. 

A knock at the bathroom door pulls her back to reality. She’s already here, there’s nothing she can do. Therese takes a final look at herself, smooths the creases of her tartan dress, and leaves. 

She opens the door, pushing past the line that had formed because of her, past drunk men and the drunk women hooked to their arms, and finds herself in front of Dannie. He smiles at her immediately, pulling her into his arms. Dannie smells of old perfume and cigarettes and beer. It’s nothing new to her, but knowing that tonight she can't rely on cigarettes and beer alone makes the knot in her stomach wind up even more. 

“You made it!” he shouts, pulling back to take a look at her. “I haven’t seen you since the new year!” 

"I couldn't miss it,” she replies half heartedly, struggling to be cheerful for his sake. Still, she can't stop her gaze from leaving Dannie's, scanning every inch of the room, until the sound of Billie Holiday’s music and the surrounding conversations become louder than her own thoughts. Dannie frowns at her.

“Oh come on, Tee,” he says, softer this time, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder. “It’s a party! Don’t you want to let loose for a minute?” 

“Oh, Dannie. I do, but it’s just… I don’t know if…” Too distracted to muster an answer, she continues looking around the room, eyes fixated on the clock, watching as its arms draw closer and closer to -

“ _Therese._ ” Dannie tightens the grip on her shoulder, forcing her to look back on him. “You’re alright, I'm with you. Nothing's going to happen, okay? I promise.” Therese sighs, bringing a hand to Dannie’s own. 

“I guess you’re right about letting loose.” Therese laughs, and Dannie follows. 

“That’s my girl!” Dannie shouts, patting her shoulder. He steps away for a moment, pulling a silver cigarette case from his pocket. "Say, the kitchen's not too crowded right now. Why don't we stand and talk over there?" 

Therese's lips curl up slightly, forming the smallest but most sincere smile she could offer him. The anxiety that ran rampant in her chest falls away for a minute. Dannie had always been there for her, and Dannie is still here now, despite the turmoil this week had put her through. She links her arm with Dannie and walks away with him to the kitchen. 

Maybe, after all, she could survive this night. 

\---

The two stand shoulder to shoulder as they lean out the kitchen window. Dannie speaks of his job at the times, like he was the narrator of an action movie, throwing bad puns and exaggeration into otherwise normal encounters with his workmates. Therese laughs between puffs of smoke, her head leaning against the windowpane. As Dannie's anecdotes continue Therese notices the rest of the room slowing down, herself included. She looks away from Dannie for a moment, focusing on the cigarette barely resting between her fingers.

"Are you sure this is just a cigarette?" Therese asks, words coming out slurred. 

"No," he giggles, placing a hand on her back. "Nothing you've never done before, though." Dannie leans close for a minute, staggered breaths holding back another surge of laughter. "Someone bought these as a gift for my kid brother. Figured he wouldn't notice if I'd pinched one."

"Dannie!" Therese shouts, punching him lightly on the chest. The two laugh, turning towards the window and out to the city below. The streets are still quiet, save for the few late guests trickling through Phil's apartment door. Therese falls quiet for a minute, connecting the dots between young people she doesn’t recognize and the shadows cast behind them. 

“You and your photographer eye, huh.” Dannie muses, taking a sip from his bottle. “I see you’re finally taking my advice? Are you finally interested in humans now?” 

Therese chuckles at him as she continues watching the people below. Two men in brown suits - just coming from work, probably - a blonde woman in a fur coat speed walking past the apartment, a man in a flannel shirt, blue jeans, brown hair, the sharp jaw and furrowed brows she knows all too well. 

_Richard._

The calm that once embraced her releases its hold, returning her to the pit of anxiety that had consumed her all evening. She backs away from the window, tripping over herself as she does. Dannie runs to her just before the fall, firm hands wrapped around her back. 

"I'm sorry," she mutters, barely able to bring herself back up. "I'm sorry, Dannie - I can't do this. I have to go."

"Therese," Dannie replies, the urgency in his voice so painfully present that Therese can't bring herself to look at him. "You're here, we're having a good time, him being here doesn't have to change that! I promised I'd be here for you, didn't I?"

Reluctantly, she pushes him away. "I can't do this, Dannie. I'm sorry. I'll see you again soon." 

Therese walks away before Dannie could protest, before Dannie could see the glossy sheen starting to form over her eyes. All the balance her body once had was gone, her center of gravity tossed out of the room. She tumbles onto nearby partygoers like dominos, reaching for the door, hoping Richard wouldn’t be on the other side of it. Her arms fling themselves to her coat as she scans the room one last time. Richard is in the middle of the lounge, greeting Phil and the rest of his friends. _Perfect._

Without a word, Therese slips away. 

\--

The night is cold, and Therese even colder. Her feet are light while her head hangs low, threatening to topple onto the pavement. She doesn’t know where she’s going, only that she wants to be as far away from the party as possible. For every step she takes she looks behind her shoulder, wondering how long it will take for Richard to realize that she’d left, if he'd already started chasing her, if he'd already caught up to her without her knowing. 

In the midst of her panic, she feels a shoulder crash into her chest and stumbles backwards.

“I'm sorry,” she stutters, before looking up at the woman before her, standing beside a telephone booth. She's tall and elegant, wearing black heels and a brown fur coat over what she was sure to be a very expensive grey jacket and skirt. She looks up at her face, how her blonde curls shine beneath the street lights, how they soften the sharp angles of her face, the scowl written across it, the smudged makeup around her eyes. 

“Don’t be,” the woman answers, the cold tone of her voice cutting through the middle of Therese’s chest. She freezes on the spot, struck by a sudden guilt that she can’t quite pinpoint. She watches as the woman’s hand plunges into the pocket of her coat, rustling for a minute, before she throws her head back in frustration. 

“Just when it couldn’t get any worse, you run out of cigarettes.”

They stand there for a moment, the woman leaning against the glass wall of the phone booth while Therese watches her, helpless. What happened to her? Therese wonders, fingers twitching with worry. Was it because of me? Is there anything I can do? 

Before Therese could act, the woman rubs a gloved hand over her eyes and walks away. She turns to watch the woman leave, and sees a man jogging towards them from a distance. 

“Therese!” the man shouts as he jogs into the street lights, the same man who made her flee the party, the last man she wanted to see tonight. 

Therese spins, hurrying towards the other direction, and hears Richard running after her. 

“Come on, Therese!” Richard shouts again, desperate. “Are you really going to ignore me?”

“I don't want to talk to you right now,” she shouts over her shoulder, too fatigued from the drinks and whatever Dannie gave her to smoke to run faster. 

“What, like how you didn’t want to talk to me in the past week, when we were supposed to leave together?” The fury in his voice burns through her. She hears his footsteps grow heavier, hears his angered breaths grow closer, feels his hand rooting itself on her shoulder, forcing her to turn towards him.

“For once will you just look at me and talk,” Richard yells. He struggles to keep his composure, and so does she. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Therese says as she tries to shake him off, but a second hand finds her other shoulder and stops her from doing so.

“Nothing to talk about? What about our trip? What about how I got a new job for you, bought these tickets for you, only for you to go cold on me and decide not to come? And now you’re here showing up for Dannie and Phil when you couldn’t do the same for me?” His grip tightens, suffocating the skin on Therese’s shoulders. “We were supposed to leave tonight for Christ’s sake! How could you do this to me?” 

“I never _asked_ you to do those things,” Therese spits back, trying to remain defiant while the rest of her body trembles. “You were the one who expected me to live out your fantasy with you, and I can't do that. Why didn’t you just find another girl to go with you if you wanted to leave so bad?” 

“Another girl- Therese,” Richard says, dumbfounded. “I was going to propose to you! I love you, Therese. It’s not my fault that you couldn’t see that.” He steps away, laughing at the hilarity of his own words. “I swear to god, there has to be something fucking wrong with you.”

The two fall silent. Therese stands as her heart turns turbulent, tossing back and forth between anger and hurt. She sees a wave of panic wash across Richard's face for a minute, but before he says anything she starts to step away slowly, fists clenched. 

“Why should I want to be with you if you think something’s wrong with me,” Therese says shakily before turning to walk away.

“Terry, wait,” Richard calls out to her, his voice strained with the weight of what he’d said only moments ago. “Please, I still love you, we can talk things out.”

“Goodnight, Richard,” she replies, quickening her pace as much as she can. 

“Terry!” Richard shouts, running towards her again. “I’m sorry, come back!”

She tries to block him out as much as she can, turning into a busier street hoping the traffic would drown him out.

“You’re going to regret not turning around,” he shouts, and a part of her knows he’s right, but she keeps walking anyways, putting her body on autopilot, seeking any destination where she could be alone. The crowds before her grow bigger but she still keeps walking. The cars around her grow louder but she still keeps walking. Richard's voice still hangs onto her shadow but she still keeps walking, not a care in the world for where she’s going.

“Therese!” Richard shouts one last time, his voice overtaken by fear, followed by the blaring of a car horn. Before Therese could process the tone of his voice or turn to look at him, her body is thrown across the street.

All at once, the fury that propelled her towards the busy streets of New York is overtaken by a crushing pain on her ribcage. Her breath begins to stagger, until she can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t move.

The last thing Therese sees are the stars hanging overhead, blurring into the night sky. As the stars fade away, so does she.


	2. Chapter 2

Therese looks up at herself in the mirror, cold water running beneath her fingertips, bracing herself for a night she never wanted to be part of. 

The city outside the window is quiet, far from the party taking place on the other side of the bathroom door. She watches the flickering lights against the brick walls of the apartment buildings, the shadows of two businessmen stretched out on the pavement, a yellow checker cab rolling lazily around the corner, smoke curling softly outside the driver's window. 

She’s seen it all before.

Her gaze latches onto her face in the mirror again, her eyes circling around any and every minute detail she can find. Her hair is tidy, her makeup is intact, her dress is smooth save for one or two creases along her hips. Therese closes her eyes, runs her hands from her shoulders to her ribcage, squeezing her hands tights around her bones until she can feel it, until she can confirm all of this is real. 

_“You’re going to regret not turning around.”_

A knock at the bathroom door makes her body jump out at its skin. She shouts an apology to the door before she looks at herself one last time. Everything is in place. _I must be imagining things._

Therese lets out a deep exhale as she pivots towards the door. She opens the door and moves forward, a slow and dizzy waltz between the bodies of men and women she faintly recognizes, until she finds herself in Dannie's arms. 

"You made it!" Dannie shouts, smiling as he pulls away to look at her. "I haven't seen you since -"

"The new year," she replies automatically, watching Dannie's brow raise in amusement. "How long was I in the bathroom?" 

Dannie's hand lifts itself from Therese's shoulder to scratch the back of his head. "I dunno, Therese, it's only quarter past eight and the party only started a couple of minutes ago." Therese looks down, puzzled, trying and failing to connect the dots between where she is now and the party she swears she already went to.

"I think I have deja vu," Therese says simply, looking down at the tips of her shoes. Dannie laughs at her, his hand returning to her shoulder.

"What _I_ think," he says, tightening his grip slightly as he turns Therese towards the kitchen, "is that you should let loose for a minute. The kitchen's not too crowded right now. Why don't we stand and talk over there?"

Unsure of how to act, or respond, Therese follows.

The two stand shoulder to shoulder, leaning out the kitchen window. Therese takes slow drags from her cigarette as Dannie’s mouth runs wild beside her, telling stories from his job at the Times, stories she already knows the ending to. As the minutes pass the party around her starts to blur, the surrounding conversations reduced to an echo she can barely comprehend. She turns to Dannie, his words running out of his mouth faster than his mouth can move. He notices her staring and stops.

"Therese?" he asks, leaning closer and closer until his face is all that she sees. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“I don’t know, Dannie, I…” her words disappear along with the smoke rising from between her fingertips. Therese looks down at the cigarette, deep in its burning ember, searching for answers to questions she still hasn't quite figured out. 

_"I'm sorry," she muttered, barely able to bring herself back up. "I'm sorry, Dannie - I can't do this. I have to go."_

Therese blinks once, twice, until she loses count, as if doing so would make the images bombarding her mind disappear. 

_“Nothing to talk about? What about our trip? What about how I got a new job for you, bought these tickets for you, only for you to go cold on me and decide not to come? And now you’re here showing up for Dannie and Phil when you couldn’t do the same for me?” Richard’s grip tightened, suffocating the skin on Therese’s shoulders. “We were supposed to leave tonight for Christ’s sake! How could you do this to me?”_

She pulls her hand from the window to her face, catching the tears welling up in her eyes before they could escape. 

_“Therese!” Richard shouted one last time, his voice overtaken by fear, followed by the blaring of a car horn. Before Therese could process the tone of his voice or turn to look at him, her body was thrown across the street._

She loses her grip on the cigarette, watching it fall against the brick wall of Phil’s apartment. 

_As the stars faded away, so did she._

“I have to go,” Therese whispers, her voice hollow. She turns to leave before Dannie could catch her, walking further and further until the sound of his pleas dissipate into the rest of the party’s noise. Desperation takes over her body, the same kind she felt in the memories she can’t quite locate. She weaves herself carelessly between the crowd, barely missing the shoulders of guests she can hardly recognize, until her coat is over her shoulders and her hand is reaching for the exit.

The door opens before she could twist the handle, and Richard is there, standing before her. 

“Therese,” Richard says, his voice firm, and Therese wants to cry. She wants to kick at his chest, push him down the stairwell, anything for him to disappear. Instead, she pushes herself through the gap between his shoulders and the doorframe, hoping she disappears instead.

“Wait,” he commands, his hand latching onto her arm before she descends down the stairs. “we need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she replies, a wrecking sob threatening to emerge from beneath her words. She tries to free her arm but her body is too weak, and Richard is too insistent. 

“You can’t do this to me, Terry,” he shouts this time, the anger in his voice beginning to boil over. His knuckles pop white against her wrist, draining the blood from her hands until her fingers fall limp. 

"It hurts," she cries, but Richard changes nothing, insisting on keeping her with him at the top of the stairwell even if it means breaking her. Frantically, Therese tries to pull her arm away from him, barely able to form a fist with her hand.

The two stand like this on the edge of the stairwell for a while, Richard standing firm in his place as Therese thrashes against him. He lashes out at her with words she doesn't know how to respond to, about the trip they were supposed to be on, the week of silence he couldn't tolerate, how he's the only man who could ever love her the way he does. 

"You never loved me," Therese bites back. The argument ends after that, and the rest of the night along with it.

The aggression in Richard's face is distorted by hurt, the strength he had to keep her with him dropping to the floor like flies. His grip on her wrist releases slightly, just as Therese pulls her arm back with as much force her body could manage. 

Therese loses balance entirely, her back gracelessly arching towards the bottom of the stairwell and she tumbles, each step denting her skull bit by bit, until she loses consciousness completely.

Therese looks up at herself in the mirror, cold water running beneath her fingertips, tears trickling silently down her face. 

Dying once was enough. To die a second time was something she never expected, let alone hoped for, and now she trembles before her own reflection, unsure if she even exists anymore.

Her head turns out the window and everything is the same. The same flickering lights, the same two businessmen, the same checker cab. Therese is the only one who seems to have changed, and she doesn't understand why. 

She stands still before the mirror until the knocking on the door becomes louder, louder, louder. Therese takes one last look at herself, determination fighting to show itself on her face.

"I have to go." 

Therese approaches the door only seconds before the first knock, opening the door to a startled man with ruffled hair and a bottle of beer hanging from beneath his palm. Her head peers over the crowd, searching nervously, until she sees Dannie amidst the crowd, laughing with Phil and draining the remains of his drink. 

With more caution than she’s used to Therese leaves, ghostlike as she slips between the crowd. Every move she makes is calculated, from the way she maps out her path to the exit to the way her hands latch onto the rails of the staircase, counting each step of her descent.

By the time she makes it outside the businessmen are still there, and the checker cab on the corner of the street had only just started its engine. There’s a part of her that knows better than to feel relieved this early. Still, she can’t help the relief shaping her lips into a smile. She didn’t think she could make it this far. 

Looking both ways, she crosses the street and makes her way home. It’s a 20 minute walk, and if she manages to last long enough then maybe she could last long enough to see the next day. The caution that carried her out of Phil’s apartment remains, guiding her through the streets and its harsh winter air. 

As the panic that greeted her before the bathroom mirror subsides, Therese begins to appreciate her surroundings more. The Victorian streetlights that once blinded her are welcoming now, dotting the streets like stars of a constellation that only she recognizes. 

She walks past Frankenberg’s, its once festive Christmas entrance now blanketed by plastic sheeting, unkempt wires, and yellow caution tape. Pausing for a minute, Therese recalls the hours spent behind the stuffy counter, smiling at customers who never bothered to ask for her name, let alone how her day was, all so she could save enough money to go wherever Richard wanted to take her. Now, the Frankenberg’s she remembered is gone, on its way to becoming something new. She wonders when she’ll do the same. 

A brown fur coat in the corner of her eye catches her attention.

Therese spins around, watching a blonde woman walking further and further into the streets. She can’t shake the feeling that she knows her, that once upon a time she stood helpless in an empty street, watching the same woman disappear. Unsure of why, there’s a part of her that feels obligated to follow her, perhaps even help her, as if the woman fading into the streetlights would even know who she is. 

In the midst of her thoughts a speeding bicycle collides into her, knocking her back into the construction site behind her. The frayed wires tangle into her body, electric shocks erasing the winter’s cold from her veins.

Therese looks up at herself in the mirror, cold water running beneath her fingertips, and small traces of static escaping her lungs. 

She looks out the bathroom window, watches the two businessmen and the checker cab standing still beneath the flickering lights. All she wants is to live among them, to be away from the party for once, but every time leaves she always comes back. Every time she tries to escape the world punishes her, and she dies. 

Therese closes her eyes, telling herself she has to do what it takes to survive this night.

She has to stay at the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at long last, here's chapter 2! i wanted to write and post this so much sooner, but the past few days have been rough and its taken a while for me to find time to actually sit and focus on this chapter :(( coincidentally though this ended up going up on russian doll's two year anniversary, so it ended up being a happy coincidence i guess?? haha 
> 
> no spoilers, but in case anyone was wondering there's only one more chapter after this one before carol and therese meet properly, which i'm very excited for! 
> 
> also thank you so much to nadz and sarina for being so generous and lovely and for proofreading everything before i upload them - ur both angels and i would die for u!!! x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for mentions of coerced sex and violence: if you want to avoid that then please skip the flashback scene thats in italics!

Therese swipes her first drink of the night from Dannie's hand as soon as she leaves the bathroom. Laughter erupts from Dannie's chest, vibrating through the hollow of her bones as she tilts her chin back to catch the final drops of beer. She forces a laugh to mimic his own, succeeds enough that Dannie doesn't question it, and the two leave together, Dannie skipping to the bathroom as Therese's limp body hangs off of his arm. 

Her second drink helps her wash away the taste of smoke lingering in her mouth. Dannie finally confesses that the cigarettes are laced with weed, but by then Therese's head is rolling onto the windowpane, throwing her off balance. Therese giggles in between Dannie's anecdotes, the ones she's heard before and the ones she's so desperately trying to appreciate. Dannie hands her a third, a fourth drink, sending the burn in her chest higher and higher up her throat. She drinks through it anyways. She's felt worse before.

She stumbles towards her fifth drink at the bar, where she finds Phil leaning idly against the counter. It's the first time she's lived long enough to see him like this, and the sight brings a tear to her eye. When Phil turns and notices Therese she falls against him immediately, arms thrown over his shoulders, a staggered laugh replacing the sob that threatened to escape past her lips. The words come out of her like a downpour, congratulating Phil on his new job, his new apartment, telling him how much she’s missed seeing him. As she empties her glass Phil watches her, bewildered, and simply asks, “What’s gotten into you?” 

Therese blindly reaches for a sixth drink to prove that nothing’s wrong, takes a seventh to keep up her facade. Phil does nothing to protest, even as the people surrounding them begin to stare. He clinks his bottle with hers, half amused and half afraid for the Therese unfurling before him. 

Therese doesn’t notice when she loses count of her drinks, but the rest of the room does. She dances amidst the crowd, jazz music from the stereo recklessly guiding her flailing limbs towards the ceiling. She laughs and she dances, until the surrounding how are you’s and are you okay’s dissolve into the sound of Billie Holiday's voice. 

The Therese she used to be becomes nothing more than a party trick, tricking no one, not even herself. Therese can’t bring herself to be normal again. How could she, when she had died and lost herself so many times? How could she expect herself to be fine, when everything she’d gone through has been anything but that?

In the midst of her dancing her feet topple over one another, and her heavy body falls against someone’s chest. The rest of the night blurs away. 

_Therese couldn’t find the words for the shame she felt as she pushed herself off of Richard’s bed, clutching bundles of her clothing against her bare chest. The cold air surrounding her did nothing to ease the burn left on her body by Richard’s hands, the tears on her face, the drop of blood that trickled down the inside of her thigh. Richard sat in his bed, arms thrown behind his head as his bare chest heaved in frustration. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, knowing the fury in his eyes was still there, threatening to strike her down once more._

_“What’s your fucking problem, Terry?” Richard asked. “You said you were ready.”_

_“You can’t expect me to be ready whenever you want me to be,” Therese replied pathetically, hissing as she put her clothes on slowly._

_“I waited years for this, Therese. I waited for you when no one else bothered to. Don’t you think you owe me this?”_

_Therese stayed silent, putting on the last of her clothing. She wanted to keep control of her composure, especially after she’d lost control of everything else that night._

_When Richard stood from his bed Therese couldn’t help but flinch, anticipating his hands to throw her back onto his bed, to hurt her again, claiming it was because he loved her. Richard walked towards the bedroom door instead, flicking the lights on and shoving the door open. Therese was glad she was already dressed, God forbid she saw the bruises he’d left on her skin._

_“Now I get why you’ve always been alone,” Richard said, his voice low. “You say you want to be loved, and then you push everyone away when they try to love you. There’s something wrong with you, Terry. It’s not my fault that you can’t see that.”_

_Therese said nothing, simply putting her shoes on so she could escape Richard’s apartment, her back facing him the whole time. She walked out slowly, ghosting through the walls of Richard’s apartment, fearing that they would collapse on her, that she would never get to leave._

_As much as she tried to, she couldn’t bring herself to knock Richard’s words out of her head. Maybe, after all, he was right._

_Maybe this was all her fault._

When Therese wakes up in a room that isn’t her own, the panic that meets her almost catapults her soul from her body. She tries to push herself off the bed but crashes back down immediately afterwards, dizzy from all the drinks she had the night before. Her eyes squeeze shut, pitifully fighting away the throbbing hangover beginning to wreak havoc on her body. 

“Terry? Are you alright?” 

Her eyes open to meet Richard, his furrowed brows and concerned eyes hovering over her own. She props herself up on one elbow, eyes wafting over the room, slowly putting the pieces together. This is Richard’s bedroom, Richard’s apartment, the one place she never thought she’d see herself in again. 

“How did I…?” Therese mumbles faintly. Richard sits back down in the chair next to his bed. 

“You blacked out at the party just as I got there,” he says, signs of exhaustion evident in his voice. “I was worried about you, so I took you home.” 

Therese looks down at herself, still wearing the same tartan dress and stockings from the night before. Her clothes reek with the smell of spilled drinks, and the dizziness that follows threatens to send her plummeting back into Richard’s sheets. He holds his arm behind her back, catching her before she does. 

“Easy, now,” he says, guiding Therese as she sits back against the headboard. “Wait here, okay? I’ll grab you something to eat.” 

She watches as he rises from his seat and out the door, dressed in a brown suit and work shoes. She hears his feet scrambling towards the kitchen, the clinking of plates against the countertop, the hiss of gas from his stove. All the while she questions his kindness, something that feels so foreign after the week of hostility between her and Richard. He could have left her at the party, joined the crowd of people who watched her spiral, and he didn’t. _Why?_

Richard returns to the room minutes later, a mug of coffee in one hand and a plate of takeaway in the other. “I hope you don’t mind chicken wings for breakfast,” he says, shyly. “You know I’ve never been much of a cook.” He places the warm plate on her lap and leaves the mug on the bedside table. The smell of food doesn’t mix well with the nausea in her stomach, but she welcomes it all the same. 

“You didn’t have to do this for me,” she says weakly, fingers slowly tracing the edge of her plate. 

“Of course I do, Terry,” he replies softly, cupping her hand with his own. “I was really worried about you. I still am.” His hand is gentle as it rises to her face, tucking a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. The two remain like this for a while, silent as Therese searches for the words to give back to him.

“You said there was something wrong with me,” she finally musters, her eyes avoiding his. “How are you still being so kind to me?” Richard sighs, leaning closer towards her.

“I love you, Terry. That’s all there is to it. I know we’ve had our rough patch, but I really believe we can make things right again. Whatever’s wrong with you, with _us,_ we can fix it. I’m willing to try, I hope you are too.” 

“But our trip…”

“Forget about that,” he sighs, gently rubbing circles into her back. “We can go again another time. Right now I just want to know if we’re okay.” He nudges Therese slightly, prompting her to look up at him. “Are we?” 

Whatever facade she had at the party, she wishes she could have it back. She wishes she could look him in the eye, tell him how she feels, without having to fear his response. Therese falls silent instead, feels Richard’s anxiety escalate in rhythm with her own. 

“You’re right,” she finally whispers, hoping Richard doesn’t notice the glossy sheen over her eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left things the way I did.”

“I love you,” Richard replies, making no effort to conceal the joy in his voice. He leans forward to embrace her, kissing her forehead. Therese closes her eyes, focusing on the warmth of his body, the thumping of his heart against his chest, anything but the protest taking place inside her own body.

“I gotta go,” he says as he rises, picking up his hat from the bedside table as he makes his way to the door. “I’ve just gotta pick up some things from the office and I’ll grab you some aspirin on the way back. Make sure to eat something, okay?” 

Therese nods, smiling faintly at him. “See you later.”

“See you,” he smiles, walking out the door. Therese holds her smile until she hears the lock of his apartment door, and comes undone immediately after. 

She never wanted to go back to Richard. She never hoped that they could be together again, after the way Richard hurt her, convinced her she’d done something wrong. The safety she once saw in him became smothering over the years, and she couldn’t bring herself to give the love Richard demanded from her. 

Maybe this is why she keeps dying. Maybe she’s being punished for pushing him away, the one man who ever bothered to stay by her side, to love her, when no one else could do the same.

Her stomach roars at her, the acid in her stomach threatening to consume her whole. Therese picks up a chicken wing from her plate, eating it whole in one go, as if filling her stomach would also fill the void this decision had carved into her chest. She eats a second, a third, each bone dropping to the plate beneath her with a soft thud. 

Therese tries to convince herself that this is right, even though she knows that it isn’t. She tries telling herself that, even if her life is compromised after this, at least she’ll get to live, bring an end to the torture of having to relive the same night where she tried to avoid him. She eats quickly, sucking each bone dry, as if trying to get the day over with. 

A bone catches in her throat and she panics.

She tries to cough it out, but the bone in her throat sinks deeper. She tries to fish it out of her mouth with her fingers but they can’t reach, and end up frantically bumping against the roof of her mouth instead. The sharp edge of the bone grazes down her throat, making it harder and harder for air to pass into her lungs. 

Therese crashes on the floor, the plate of half eaten wings shattering beside her. She tries to call for help but no words come out, only gurgled cries and shortened breaths. She looks at her hands and they’re pale, even more so when she woke up this morning, save for the droplets of blood from when she tried to cough the bone out of her throat. 

Therese clutches at her throat, gasping for air one last time, before there’s none left in her lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again, thank you so much for your patience!! i'm really sorry it took so long to update, the past few days have been really tough and i was feeling burned out for the longest time. this chapter is a little bit rushed because i wanted to be able to update as soon as i could. 
> 
> thank you so so much to all the kind and lovely people who have been so encouraging in the comments - your words have motivated me to keep going with this! i can't promise anything, but i'll do my best to be more consistent with writing and posting in the future x 
> 
> that being said, carol and therese interact in the next chapter so stay tuned!! i'm really looking forward to writing it and i hope the wait is worth it x


End file.
